


An Unusual Catch

by glorious_spoon



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fic [9]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Drowning, Gen, Missing Scene, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 06:56:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13898700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: It may be the strangest catch that any Jabari fisherman has ever brought in.





	An Unusual Catch

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fic, posted for posterity. Originally posted [here](http://glorious-spoon.tumblr.com/post/171555562026/untitled-mbaku-prompt-fic).

The fisherman was young; a boy, really, slender and unmarked other than the fresh welts on his arms, which he’d apparently acquired hauling in the most unusual catch any Jabari fisherman had come across in quite some time. A king, bleeding and unconscious and nearly naked, still tangled up in twisted netting. At first glance, T’Challa looked dead, but his chest still rose and fell slightly, and when M’Baku leaned over to press the pads of his fingers against the slack throat, a faint pulse still beat there.

“He lives,” he pronounced, standing, and the boy sagged with visible relief. Jabari or no, a dead king was more aggravation than any boy this age needed to deal with before he even had his noon meal. M’Baku made a shooing motion at him, absently, with one hand. “Leave us. I will deal with him.”

The boy didn’t wait for him to change his mind. He gulped, nodded, and fled. M’Baku crouched down again, contemplating T’Challa’s slack, bruised face, his bloody torso and split knuckles. After a moment’s consideration, he prodded the king’s cheek hard enough to feel the shape of bone beneath. There was no response, not that he was expecting one. The rest of the fishermen murmured behind him; he ignored them.

T’Challa clearly no longer possessed the benefits of the heart-shaped herb. No mortal man could have inflicted such injuries on the Black Panther, but the bloody, beaten man before him was not the Black Panther any longer, which probably meant that he was also not the king any longer. Pity. As kings went, T’Challa might not have been a bad one.

“Should we cut him loose?” someone asked from behind him.

“Hmm,” M’Baku said, and then, “yes, cut him loose and bring him up the mountain. He may die anyway, of course.”

He would probably die anyway. His injuries had been severe before he went into the water, and it was impossible to know how long he’d been submerged. But he would not die here, gasping in the silty mud like a beached fish about to be gutted. M’Baku had little affection for the throne or those who sat upon it, but this was not a matter of affection. It was a matter of honor. A life for a life. Or at least a dignified death, if that was all he could offer.

The sturdy knives of the fishermen made quick work of the twisted netting, and M’Baku made a note to ensure that the boy who owned it received another. If this incident hadn’t put him off of fishing entirely, that was; M’Baku wouldn’t have blamed him. He removed his fur cloak and gently wrapped it around T’Challa before scooping him up into his arms and standing. The king’s head lolled against his shoulder, smelling of river mud instead of scented hair oil as it had when they’d fought in the challenge ring. His mouth was parted slightly. He looked dead, although when M’Baku held a hand up to his mouth, he was still breathing faintly.

“Should we send word to the palace?” someone asked.

“Not yet,” M’Baku replied. At some point, they would have to have someone come and collect their missing king, but if the situation was in flux— and it had to be— he did not want to bring chaos onto his mountain. Not unless he was the one producing it. “We’ll get him stabilized first. Let’s go.”


End file.
